


Last Remote

by violetstorm



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Some Comfort?, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Possible Character Death, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 05:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20633474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetstorm/pseuds/violetstorm
Summary: Four years into the Long Night, Gladio goes missing without a trace.





	Last Remote

They find Gladio’s necklace five months later.

Prompto gently lays it in Ignis’ open palms. “They found it somewhere in Duscae,” he says. His voice is even but his hands are shaking. “It was by a haven. Um, they didn’t know the name of it, but it was near Saxham. They didn’t, um, they didn’t—”

He doesn’t need to say it for Ignis to know. He doesn’t want Prompto to say it. “Thank you, Prompto. That will be enough.”

But alas, Prompto has never been one for holding his tongue. “They looked everywhere!” he blurts out. “But they still didn’t find any trace of him. I—I looked around myself, too, after they gave me the necklace. Went straight there from Hammerhead but I couldn’t find any clues.”

“It’s quite alright, Prompto.” Ignis closes his hands around Gladio’s necklace, gently running the beads—worn down with time and covered in dirt—between his fingers. His other hand reaches up to his necklace by habit, given to him by none other. For so long, he had thought the bead on his necklace, taken from Gladio’s own, had been the only thing left. Now he has this, at least. It brings him no comfort. “We mustn’t lose faith. We will find him soon enough.”

Prompto hums in agreement and Ignis knows neither of them believe his words.

* * *

Ignis wears Gladio’s necklace over his own and its is only a reminder that Gladio is dea— _ missing. _He, Iris and Prompto have split up and spend their efforts fighting daemons and asking hunters for any sign. They never get any answers.

He wonders if he’s ever killed a daemon that killed Gladio. He wonders if he killed a daemon that was once Gladio.

He fights with a group of hunters. He doesn’t know their names; he never bothered trying to remember. Together, they slaughter daemons as they protect cars carrying supplies and outposts that have yet to fall in the darkness. Just like Gladio did.

_ “I’ll be back soon, okay? Love you,” _ Gladio had said, and pressed a kiss to Ignis’ forehead before he left to take care of a mess of daemons by Cauthess. Two weeks later, Ignis got a call from Dave saying that everybody—the hunters and Gladio—have vanished.

The daemons grow stronger and Ignis wonders if he’ll disappear with these hunters too, like Gladio did. Perhaps he’ll finally meet Gladio again if he does.

* * *

“You need to take care of yourself,” Prompto says as he bandages Ignis’ injuries. They weren't even supposed to meet up, but Ignis' group had to take a stop at Hammerhead for supplies after a particularly bad fight and he trusted nobody as much as he did Prompto to tend to him. Even so, he wants to leave as soon as he can.

It’s too painful, listening to Prompto’s attempts to stay strong for him. Morbidly, he questions who will be the next to go. First it was Noct, then it was Gladio and, given his current track record, Ignis wouldn’t be surprised if he would be the next one gone. The thought doesn’t scare him as much as it should.

“Being reckless isn’t going to help anyone.” It’s as if Prompto can read his mind. “You’re not gonna find Gladio like that. You… you need to be here for when Gladio comes back. And Noct, too.”

Ignis rubs Gladio’s necklace. It’s covered in blood—but then again, so is the rest of his body. 

“And... I don’t wanna lose you, too, Iggy.”

In Hammerhead’s tiny caravan, Ignis washes off the blood. He hugs Prompto before he leaves again, with promises to stay in contact more often, before he leaves to continue his search.

* * *

“Keep it,” Iris says when Ignis tries to give her Gladio’s necklace, closing his fingers over his palm. “Necklaces were always a sign of romance for Amicitias. You don’t just give _ anyone _a necklace, let alone one made out of your own.”

She wears Gladio’s coat on her shoulders. She has grown much in these past years, all muscle and scars, and Gladio’s coat is still far too large for her. Her voice has yet to lose its cheer and she is as optimistic as one can be in the darkness.

“Thank you.” Ignis pulls the necklace over his head and he doesn’t realize how much he’s missed its weight until its back on his chest. He thinks he should say more, but Iris grabs his hands before he can.

“Don’t worry, Iggy,” she says. “We’ll find Gladdy. I swear, on my life and on my name as an Amicitia. We’re gonna find him.”

His body, perhaps.

Ignis grasps her hand, twice as hard. “Yes. We will. I’ll make sure of it.”

* * *

His house is in Lestallum, though Ignis hasn’t returned since he left to go searching for Gladio. He refuses to walk through those doors without Gladio, too afraid of seeing how empty it is without him. Gladio’s clothes remain in there and Ignis wants to surround himself in his scent but it won’t be the same.

Most of the hunters have stopped actively searching for Gladio by now and all Kingsglaive that were once searching have returned to protect Insomnia in preparation for Noct’s return, under Cor's orders.

“I don’t want to stop looking,” Cor had told him over the phone. “I feel like I'm spitting on Clarus' grave. But our king is what’s most important. Gladio would understand.”

He would. He would be ashamed of Ignis for almost neglecting his duty to Noct and his people. But he’s to blame, isn’t he? He was the one who had to steal Ignis’ heart all those years ago (as if Ignis hadn’t given it so willingly). He was the one who swept Ignis off his feet and taught him that there could be more to his life than this duty.

Iris searches by Cleigne, Prompto by Leide and Ignis by Duscae. He rubs at his eyes at night and wonders if he’s ever walked past Gladio without noticing because he couldn't see.

* * *

His phone rings, jolting Ignis out of his troubled sleep, if he could even call it that. He’d been resting on a shoddy bed in a worn-out hotel in Cauthess Rest Area. He doesn’t get calls often nowadays. It’s usually a text from Prompto or Iris telling him the same thing.

_ Haven’t found him yet, Iggy. Still keeping our hopes up. Be safe. _

Without checking who is calling, Ignis answers. “Scientia.”

“_Ignis,” _ Prompto’s voice calls out. “It’s—oh man, Iggy, I—I can’t believe it, but—Iggy, oh my god!"

"Speak, Prompto."

"Iggy, _we found him!"_

Ignis sits up with an uncontrollable gasp, his chest heaving with every breath he takes. His heart soars with a hope he refuses to let himself believe in. “What? How did you… no, never mind. How is he? Is he…” he doesn’t dare finish the sentence.

“He’s alive, Iggy. But he’s—he’s not in good condition right now. It’s… not good Iggy, not gonna lie, but he’s here and alive and Iris is with him right now but it’s really bad and you gotta get over here and—”

“Where are you?” Ignis cuts him off and without realizing it, he’s already dressed and leaving the caravan, habit leading his feet because lord knows he isn’t paying any attention to where he’s walking.

“Lestallum.”

That’s almost three days’ time from here. But, what’s another three days of waiting when he has already been patient for eight months already?

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Ignis says. 

He hangs up and begins counting.

* * *

When he opens the door to Lestallum’s makeshift hospital, Prompto barrels into him without warning, embracing him as if worried he’d run.

“You made it!” Prompto mumbles into Ignis’ jacket. “C’mon, Gladio’s this way.”

He leads Ignis by the hand, weaving through the hospital. There are groans of pained hunters and the rapid sounds of people running to and fro. As they go higher, the noise fades, the only sound being Prompto and Ignis’ footsteps on cold metal stairs. The stench of antiseptic and blood only grow stronger.

“We’re here,” Prompto announces quietly. He pushes open the door to a room where a monitor beeps and a familiar gasp greets them.

“Iggy!” Iris says. She approaches him and hugs him as well, taking hold of his other hand. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“And I, you,” Ignis says. “Is Gladio..?”

Iris tightens her grip. “Yeah. He’s… he’s just over here. He’s on the bed,” She gently leads Ignis to the bed and takes his hand, bringing it to Gladio’ own. Ignis bites his lip as he runs his fingers along Gladio’s knuckles, to his wrists, where rope burns are etched into his skin, along his arms, tracing scars he’s memorized the path of long ago. It's him. It's Gladio. They have truly found him and brought him back.

“Gladio?” Ignis whispers. “Gladio, can you hear me? It’s—it’s me. Ignis.”

“He’s...” Iris takes a deep breath. “He’s not… he’s asleep. He was asleep when Prompto and I got here, too.”

Ignis cups Gladio’s chin. His beard is unbearably scruffy and Ignis knows Gladio, ever so particular about his hair care, would throw a fit if he realized what he looked like. And his lips, _oh_ his lips, once so soft, are chapped and the bottom one is split, adorned with dried blood. Ignis wants to kiss him anyways, desperate to feel his warmth.

His chest is barely moving but his breath, though faint, is there, steady. Ignis wants to place his hand over Gladio’s chest, needing to feel his heartbeat, but the bandages there would surely only block his way.

He doesn’t realize he’s falling where he stands until Prompto pushes a chair under his legs. They buckle under his weight and Ignis slumps into the chair, boneless.

“What… what happened?” he asks.

Prompto clears his throat. Iris shuffles in her seat.

“Some hunters found him by Fort Vaullerey when they were scavenging for supplies,” Prompto finally says. “He was in a really bad shape, but he was conscious. They—they tried to help him but he tried attacking them.”

“They said it was like he completely lost his mind,” Iris chimes in. “He was mumbling something they couldn’t understand and then he fell unconscious. They almost didn't recognize him because he was covered in so much dirt and blood, but once they did, they brought him to Lestallum. He hasn’t woken up since.”

Ignis wills his body to sit up, ignoring his muscles screaming in protest. “He hasn’t woken for that long?”

“His injuries were really bad, Iggy.” Prompto is quiet. Ignis can hardly hear him over the monitor. “Like, really bad. The hunters said he looked like he’d been… like…”

“Like he’d been tortured,” Iris finishes. “He’s got rope burn over his wrists and ankles and the hunters said his injuries looked too clean, like he got sliced up by some knives and not a daemon’s claws. There were marks left by a whip and all these bruises, and his left arm, they… it was snapped clean. It was too clinical. If we didn’t use an elixir, it probably wouldn’t have healed properly. Or at all.”

“_No. _” Ignis stands and his chair falls to the ground. “No, no… He’s been gone for nearly eight months now. He can’t have… no, for all this time, he was…”

The monitor continues to beep.

“Did they find the people who did this? Do they have any leads? There had to have been some kind of reasoning behind this.” Ignis clenches his hands into fists. “Well?!”

“We don’t know who did it,” Iris says. “The hunters that found Gladdy said they didn’t find anybody else with him and Gladdy didn’t say much before he went unconscious. We won’t get an answer until he wakes up.”

“Ardyn,” Prompto says under his breath. “Coulda been Ardyn. He likes doing that sort of thing."

Ignis sets his chair upright and sits down on the bed. He lays a light touch on Gladio’s thigh, gentle enough not to disturb him but enough to tell Ignis that he’s here. And safe, as safe as he could be.

“I don't care if it's Ardyn or a daemon or some MTs or whatever. I’m gonna kick the ass of whoever did this,” Iris mutters. “I’m gonna teach them a fuckin’ lesson.” Prompto makes a sound of acknowledgement and after a moment’s hesitation, Ignis nods.

“Until we find out, we just gotta wait for Gladio to wake up,” Prompto says.

There’s a strange mixture of relief, terror and pain flooding Ignis’ body. He thought he would finally be able to rest once he found Gladio and yet, the anxiety bubbling in his stomach only grows stronger by the minute. He wants to cry now that Gladio is back, but he finds his eyes dry.

Ignis takes Gladio’s hand (cold, unfeeling, limp), and waits for him to wake.

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to ffxv twitter for theorizing that the [ bead on Ignis' necklace came from one of the beads on Gladio's necklace.](https://twitter.com/Coelasquid/status/1171209073963831296?s=19) and a thanks to the FFXV Book Club Discord for making fluffy HCs about this theory so my bitchass could take them and turn them into angst fodder in one night bc i can't control my impulses ♡
> 
> (fun fact: i planned my first draft of this to have ignis been the one tortured, then remembered that the fandom doesn't love gladio enough, so i decided to torture _him_ to show my love for him? sorry gladio baby things are only gonna get worse for you from here)


End file.
